


i bet on losing dogs

by loopunderground



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopunderground/pseuds/loopunderground
Summary: It is gone. It is all gone.It is burned and consumed and destroyed and it is gone.OR: Hound receives some news.
Relationships: Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	i bet on losing dogs

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone
> 
> i wanted to start posting some of my warm ups,, and i had like, a fun lil nsfw one planned (which i will post at some point) but honestly i have been doing Not Great so i ended up writing this instead... i can only apologise
> 
> there's not exactly much context in the fic so here it is in advance, this fic is set in a timeline where hammond really fucks up somehow and harvester explodes and it completely decimates world's edge and the surrounding areas
> 
> title taken from the mitski song bc i have had it on repeat for about a week now
> 
> warnings for some heavy descriptions of loss and grief 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

It is  _ gone. _

On the screen there is fire and destruction and death. The voice of the reporter had long since disappeared and now all they hear is panicked, anguished screams, they echo around the inside of their head. And they are so very aware that they were supposed to be there, but they are not, they are thousands of miles away, on another planet entirely, but still they can hear them. The screams persist as though they were on the ground amongst them. Everything else is muted, as though they are underwater, the world around them blurry and slipping away at the edges into shadow. Into smoke. Just like-

Pain comes quick and sharp in their chest and they gasp, any lingering numbness shaken off violently as they desperately try to take in breaths, unsure if they have been breathing at all since they saw it. Their mask is nearby but they cannot move, rooted to the spot as though their feet had been nailed to the floor, forced to bear witness to this horror. A penance for not being there with them, for being so far away, to watch it all be destroyed with liquid fire and rock. The last time it had been so-

Cold. Their body is cold and suddenly they are a child again, watching as their father runs desperately towards them, hands stretched out, as they are crying and begging for him to make it back in time, to not be swept away by the approaching, crushing wall of white. They blink and suddenly they are older and Artur is wheezing in their arms, his blood soaking into the snow and staining it red. There is pride in his face and his chest lurches with each passing breath until he is still. And when they force their gaze away from his body and look up, they are faced with Boone, standing atop the creature’s cage and they can see the apology in his eyes as he is torn apart in front of them, his soul gone before his body ever hits the ground.

They had thought that they knew what their purpose was in life, but they wonder if this is it instead - to watch all that they love be ripped away from them, to carry the pain of loss and bury it deep within them, is this their destiny? To be a monument for grief? Was the Allfather so cruel to make them shoulder all this, because they are no stranger to bearing burdens but the weight of it, of so much loss, it is crushing and exhausting and they are not sure that they can carry it anymore.

A door opens behind them. Someone calls their name. They are gasping, hands clenched by their side whilst their whole body trembles.

“It’s all gone…” They rasp, as Elliott comes to stand in front of them in an attempt to block them from seeing the screen any longer. But they do not need to see it, it is too late for that, the fires are carved into their retinas and they know it is something they will never be able to unsee, it will haunt them until their dying breath. He looks worried, almost terrified, looking over them with frantic inspection, his mouth moving quickly with rushed words although they do not know what he is saying. All they hear is screaming still, the crying of children. His features blur together as tears escape them, spilling hot over their cheeks, and suddenly the tightness that had previously possessed their body, that had kept them upright and cemented in place, suddenly snapped like a cord and they feel their body about to collapse. But Elliott is there to catch them, his arms around them immediately and pulling them over to the couch. He has their respirator and holds it to their mouth, and they take desperate breaths, their tears running over the mask and wetting Elliott’s fingers. His other arm wraps around them, holding them tightly. 

“I’m so sorry…” They hear him say. His voice is full of sorrow, of grief, though it is but a splinter compared to the gorge opening up inside of them. Their grief is raw and splits them open, rupturing every part of them; every cell, every nerve they have howls with it and still they are trying to breathe but it is not enough, there is not enough oxygen to pull into their lungs, and they gasp more and more in a desperate attempt to pull some in from the respirator. Elliott’s voice is frantic as he clutches at them, and his fingers, now damp with their tears, slip on the mask and he quickly has to readjust his grip so it does not fall from his hand. He is trying to calm them, trying to keep them focused, but they have been unearthed; the ground has been ripped out from under them and they do not think they will find it again.

It is gone. It is all gone. 

It is burned and consumed and destroyed and it is  _ gone. _

“I’ve got you,” he whispers to them again, “I’ve got you Hound. Keep breathing for me. Don’t stop, you’re okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. That’s it, can you hear me?”

When they were but a pup, back when the sky was nothing but blue and the clouds did not turn the colour of coal and thunder ominously, their parents would take them out to the meadows and fields. They would snuggle themselves in their mama’s lap whilst she sang to them and braided flowers into their hair. Papa would cut up little pieces of food and hand feed them both. Their mother’s laugh would float across the valleys like chimes in the breeze, and eventually their papa would scoop them up and hold them high in the air, spinning them around whilst they giggled and shouted, dizzy from the motions. 

“Hound? Nod your head if you can hear me, okay?”

Those fields had been buried in ice, the flowers all crushed and destroyed. And now they were reduced to ash and nothing more.

Gone.

“Deep breaths, that’s it… Can you look at me yet?”

_ Fyrirgefðu mér… _

“I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere… Look at me baby, please look at me.”

But they cannot look at him. They feel him grip their hand tighter than ever before, he is trying so desperately to be their anchor, to be something, anything that they can grasp onto in order to keep afloat. But their heart is so heavy that they do not think he is strong enough to keep them from sinking. 

“Elliott…” They wheeze through the mask, and his forehead is pressed against their temple, his desperate whispers repeating over and over: ‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.’

They find themselves squeezing his hand back, for he is all they have left now. Their grip is tight but he does not complain, he holds their mask diligently over their mouth and murmurs to them over and over. 

Silently they call out to the Allfather. They ask him for survivors. They pray that some of the children made it. They offer up all their tears, that they might put out the fires of their homeland, and that if their tears aren’t enough that they should offer themselves as a trade. Would their life not be worth all of the others?

They had pleaded when they had watched their father die. They had begged when Artur had fallen too. And when Boone had been taken from them, they had offered up everything they had. But everytime they had been met with silence.

And silence they were met with once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Fyrirgefðu mér - Forgive me
> 
> *****
> 
> haha whoops better get to work on those happier drafts i've got lying about
> 
> elliott got his angsty fic so really bloodhound was due one,, i am sorry
> 
> please leave comments if you can! i appreciate each and every one <3 
> 
> *****
> 
> **Socials:**
> 
> tumblr: [doubletaptrigger](https://doubletaptrigger.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [loopunderground](https://twitter.com/loopunderground)


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